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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938335">how unholy, undivine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea'>livtontea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Dreams, Gen, no beta we die like the dead dove u shouldn't eat, religious imagery as a main point but author is not religious i'm sorry, wrote this to cater to my specific tastes aka gore and being fucked up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/livtontea/pseuds/livtontea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In his dreams, Ben is dying.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>how unholy, undivine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>wow look at me uh. incapable of writing decent shit. i'm working on a non s2-compliant ben fic tho so like hopefully that makes up for?? this??</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In his dreams, Ben is dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not dead. Dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben is well acquainted with how existence after death feels like. He was dead for years. Present, conscious, but still—dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his dreams, he is kneeling. His knees ache where they dig into the hard floor. His head is bowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his dreams, he is bathed in blood. It drips down onto his bare chest, running down in rivulets to the floor. His stomach is torn open, spilling his sin out to see. His hands are clasped in a bloody prayer, his lips wine-red and his mouth flooded with the iron-salt-death taste of a kill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He prays for forgiveness. He begs for retribution, pleads for a way to right his wrongs, asks for mercy. He doesn’t get an answer—monsters don’t get their prayers heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chokes on his words. He chokes on the blood staining his flesh. He chokes on the tears dripping to the ground. He chokes on the pain of his existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his dreams, he is half-dead. Ben has only died once. He remembers every moment with clarity. (There was only one, really—agony that seemed to last for eternity, and then darkness.) This is different, the death he dreams of; he suffers like he deserves, as if the people he has slaughtered have joined together to inflict back unto him the damage he has done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bleeds. His stomach quivers with pain, his thighs wet with crimson and tears. He hears screams echoing in his ears, and he thinks, distantly, some of them must be his own. He doesn’t scream, not now, not here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his dreams, hands clasped in front of him, figure soaked in sanguine, Ben dies.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ghghh ;__;</p></blockquote></div></div>
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